


Sleep (I'll Be Your Temporary Fix)

by euhemeria



Series: And, In Sign of Ancient Love, Their Plighted Hands They Join [43]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Established Relationship, F/F, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euhemeria/pseuds/euhemeria
Summary: Trust is difficult, yet Angela trusts Fareeha nearly always; Fareeha is not only capable, not only level-headed, not only stable when she needs to be, but is a genuinely good person who always has others’ best interests at heart.  However, Angela does not know that she trusts Fareeha to do what is best forherself, given her selfless nature and stubborn streak.Or,Angela becomes concerned that Fareeha is letting her own health fall by the wayside, and struggles to find a way to help Fareeha without overstepping her bounds.





	Sleep (I'll Be Your Temporary Fix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gwinnyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwinnyth/gifts).



> **TW: Suicide Mention, Suicidal Ideation**  
>  both are implied, with the former being a single line mention of an oc former ovw member, and the latter only being suspected, and not actual or detailed. its probably not triggering for anyone but u know... it warrants a warning
> 
> this is for aline (aka gwinnyth), who is a sweetheart and could use nice things rn.
> 
> so this is meant to be read with "care (im not scared of love)" so if u havent read that one... id rec u read it too, since these are kinda... equal and opposite. just some gfs taking care of each other, as they do

Living and working within Overwatch, it can be difficult to gauge what is normal; not only are one’s coworkers extraordinary people, with abilities—and therefore needs—far outside of what is commonplace, but adhering to a schedule is difficult, also, given the amount of international travel they do and the number of emergencies they respond to.  Nevertheless, with time Angela has learned what is normal for Fareeha, and she knows this much: lately, Fareeha has not been getting a normal amount of sleep.

Despite their shared quarters, it is rare that Angela ever catches Fareeha sleeping, even under the best of circumstances—Angela tends to sleep slightly more than the average person, and Fareeha slightly less.  Although they go to bed at the same time, it is Angela who finds sleep first, and Fareeha who wakes first, even if only by an hour. 

However, Angela need not be in a position to observe Fareeha’s sleep patterns to know when they are disturbed, she sees it in the way Fareeha moves more sluggishly in the mornings, in the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, in the way her eyes cannot stop fluttering closed when the two of them are curled up on the couch together in the evening.

Insomnia, Angela is sure of it.

(Most people on base have nightmares, suffer restless nights, and she has prescribed sleeping aids to more than one person, her girlfriend included, but she is well aware that sometimes medication is not enough; her focus has always been on healing the body, not the mind.)

As a doctor, Angela could intervene, could try and compel Fareeha to rest, but she would not do so to any of her other colleagues, not unless things were worse than they are now, were affecting their performance—and Fareeha’s performance is, as ever, impeccable.

(It is hard, sometimes, to keep work and their relationship separate; no one at Overwatch has ever been good at compartmentalization.  It brought the organization to its knees in the old days, and Angela worries often that it will do so again, but Overwatch is a family—her family—and with the detachment of other organizations they might not function at all.)

A part of Angela wants to suggest that Zenyatta speak to Fareeha, for she wholeheartedly believes it would help, but to do so would be a betrayal of Fareeha’s trust.  Particularly now that Fareeha is a part of Overwatch’s leadership, she does not want others to know of her weaknesses, when possible.  Angela would be a hypocrite to call that unhealthy—and, on a certain level, she understands the position, even if she wishes Fareeha were as open with her shortcomings as she is with her humor.

(As a doctor and a commanding officer, neither of them is in a good position to appear vulnerable in front of their teammates; both of their positions require absolute trust in their judgement.  It is not easy—is far from it—and Angela wonders how either of them managed it before, without one another to confide in.)

So instead of acting, Angela must accept that she cannot “fix” Fareeha, cannot intervene where her doing so would be unwelcome, and must trust that her girlfriend knows well enough how to care for herself, and when to ask for help.  That, more than anything, scares her—the thought that Fareeha might not ask for help when she needs it, that they might be sleeping so close to one another that they wake with their hair tangled up together, and Angela could still, somehow, miss something, could fail to see when Fareeha reaches past the point of being able to cope on her own.

(She has seen it happen before, remembers well the fate of Agent Oganesson.)

Trust is difficult. 

Angela trusts other people only rarely—not because she thinks that other people are inherently untrustworthy, in fact she believes that people are generally good-intentioned, but because she spent her formative years alone and trust is a skill one _learns_ , she does not quite know how to properly open up to others, and to rely upon them. 

Angela trusts Fareeha nearly always; Fareeha is not only capable, not only level-headed, not only stable when she needs to be, but is a genuinely good person who always has others’ best interests at heart.  However, Angela does not know that she trusts Fareeha to do what is best for _herself_ , given her selfless nature and stubborn streak.

Angela trusts herself—or, at least, she trusts herself to do her job.  She is not certain how much she trusts herself to handle a relationship, however, not sure how well she knows where to draw lines, how to care for a partner, what to do in situations such as this, where Fareeha has not come to her but she cannot help but feel her girlfriend _needs_ her, nonetheless.

Normally, when Angela is uncertain about things, she goes to Fareeha; obviously, that is not an option in this case.  Then, she goes to Mei—but Mei is away ensuring that Ecopoint: Rub’ al Khali resumes operation, and in any case some things she ought not to share with her friend.  On rare occasions, when Fareeha cannot help her, and Mei is similarly indisposed, Angela sometimes chances to ask Ana for advice, but she very much doubts that Fareeha would appreciate her speaking of this with Ana, of all people.

(Jesse, oldest and dearest of Angela’s friends, is far better at commiserating than giving advice.  She could speak to him of this, having eliminated all other prospects, and trust him not to breathe a word of it to anyone—but he could not help her to solve the problem.  As beneficial as their friendship can be, in so many ways, as useful as it is to have someone to whom each of them can give voice to their darkest thoughts, their worst fears, without risk of judgement, when it comes to the question of relationships, they are equally hapless.)

So Angela can do nothing—nothing but trust that Fareeha will trust her, should intervention become necessary.

It is a difficult thing to do.

Sitting idly by is not easy for Angela, because of her profession, because of her disposition, because of her need—not always good, not always right—to attempt to _fix_ things, even if they cannot ever truly be mended. 

(That impulse is one she often must consciously struggle against, is one she has made an effort to check since entering into a relationship with Fareeha; it is good for her, she knows, to do so, but it so very, very rarely feels that way.)

For Fareeha, it is equally difficult, if not more so, to seek help, to admit that she needs the assistance of others, to know that she cannot be entirely self-reliant and accept that she need not be.

Therein lies one of the great problems in their relationship; if both of them manage their worse impulses, they are fine, and Fareeha will admit to Angela when she needs help, and Angela will step in only then, and if _neither_ of them manages their worse impulses, then at least Angela will attempt to help Fareeha, even if the latter does not admit to needing such, and that, while not ideal, at least guarantees that, in the end, they reach a sort of balance, but in a situation like this—in a time when Angela _does_ stop herself from intervening, does manage to respect Fareeha’s desire for independence and space, and Fareeha _does not_ come to her when, in fact, there is something she needs— _then_ they have a problem.

But what can Angela do?  It is not for her to help those who do not want it.

(It was, once—and she knows, now, how wrong she was for doing so, how selfish her selflessness could be.  Fareeha has tempered this worse impulse of hers, as have time and self-reflection, but none of those things is enough to tamp it out entirely.)

What can she do that she has not already done, when she has told Fareeha that, if needed, she will always be there, when she has reassured her lover that she will never think less of her for asking for help, when she has worked with Fareeha to create a relationship where both of them feel more comfortable expressing vulnerability?

What more can anyone do?

Nothing.

(Nothing without overstepping bounds that she has promised Fareeha—has promised _herself_ —that she will not, for the sake of both of them.)

There is nothing she can do to help Fareeha, but, perhaps, there is something Fareeha can do to help _her._

(It is not, she thinks, an elegant solution—it will not compel Fareeha to talk, to be open and honest about what it is she needs, will not enable Angela to _fix_ the unfixable—but it will be serviceable, and sometimes that has to be enough, even if _enough_ is a word that will always leave a bad taste in Angela’s mouth, will always feel a bit like failure.)

When she asks Fareeha to lunch in their quarters, it is not too strange a thing, for they always take lunch together, have since before they even began dating, and to move location from the communal kitchen to their private one is no great effort.  Even when they linger, after eating, it is not so unusual—while they both favor timeliness, and efficiency, there are days when conversation holds them longer than it ought, before they return to work. 

What is unusual is this: when Fareeha makes to leave, to return to her work in the armory for the afternoon, Angela catches her by the wrist and asks that she stay.

It is only one word, “Stay,” but she imbues it with all that she is feeling, her fear, and loneliness in the face of such, her need for reassurance, to hold Fareeha and be held by her, and to know that she is not slipping away, her helplessness, as she watches Fareeha struggle, and knows that an offer to intervene would do more harm than good.

“Okay,” Fareeha agrees, before Angela can even begin to worry that she might be rejected, or that she will need to explain this—what she wants, _needs_ , and why it is she is feeling this way.

Fareeha’s arms wrap around her, tight, as if she were protecting Angela from all that haunts her—as if she _could_ —and Angela wishes Fareeha would allow her to do the same, but settles, instead, for holding Fareeha also, for wrapping her arms just as tightly around Fareeha as Fareeha does to her. 

When Fareeha takes a deep breath, Angela pretends for her sake that she does not hear it hitch, hear it shudder, just buries her face deeper into Fareeha’s shoulder and tightens her grip, so that Fareeha knows she is _here,_ no matter where Fareeha’s mind is, and when they let go of one another, she looks to the side and down, rather than up towards Fareeha’s face, as if doing so would stop her from noticing, in the corner of her eye, Fareeha’s arm moving upwards to wipe her eyes.

(Perhaps Angela wipes her eyes too.  To get so emotional was not her intention but—how can she not hurt, when Fareeha is hurting?  How could she feel her emotions and remain unmoved?)

She wants to tell Fareeha that she does not have to be strong, here, that she can cry, that she can _need_ other people, can need Angela, but Fareeha knows that—is better at being vulnerable, often, than Angela herself.  Whatever it is that troubles her now is something that they will talk about, eventually, that Fareeha _will_ tell her about, when she feels she is able, and there is nothing to gain from pushing her now, nothing to gain from forcing her to discuss it before she is ready.  While it was nice to hold her, like so, good for both of them to have the additional moment of connection, of closeness even if their emotions went unvoiced, even if Angela still does not know _why_ Fareeha is feeling so much, so deeply, it was not Angela’s purpose, in being here today.

Eventually, Fareeha will tell her what ails her.  Eventually, they will be able to discuss everything and—not put it behind them, not fix it, but work though whatever this is, to try and find some balance again, some semblance that all is as it should be.  Eventually, all will be well, or as close as either of them can get to _well_ , and they will content themselves with that—but first, they must reach that point, and to do so, Angela needs to ensure that Fareeha is, at the very least, sleeping.

(She cannot cure nightmares, cannot cure insomnia, but she can, during the daytime, be there to lull Fareeha to sleep, to soothe her when she wakes.  It is enough—it has to be.)

Once Fareeha is done composing herself, she speaks again, asks Angela what it is she wants—what she needs—and Angela asks if they might just lay on the couch for a few moments, because what she needs right now is to be close to Fareeha. 

“Please,” she says, and pulls Fareeha towards the couch, “I just want to hold you—to know that you’re here.” 

It is not a lie; Angela does need to be close to Fareeha, to feel that, come what may, she will be able to do _something_ to help, will not find herself shut out when her girlfriend needs her most. 

It is not a lie; increasingly, as she has watched Fareeha suffer more and more the effects of fatigue, Angela has worried that Fareeha is not there, beside her at night, but that her mind is somewhere far away, that Angela cannot reach, and really should not want to—even though she does, if only it would help Fareeha.

It is not a lie, but it is also a very convenient truth—by so convincing Fareeha to lay with her, Angela is certain she can help to lull her girlfriend to sleep, can slow her breathing such that Fareeha will match it, until the exhaustion of the past week or two catches up with her and she finds herself succumbing to the temptation to close her eyes, just for a moment.

Unsurprisingly, Fareeha is quick to acquiesce, and soon enough her head is resting on Angela’s chest, arms holding tight around her waist, anchoring them both to one another.  Angela is half propped up on pillows and the arm of the couch, and Fareeha is sprawled on her stomach, feet just barely fitting on the couch; it is hard for Angela to imagine how the position could be comfortable, but Fareeha, certainly, is not complaining, humming deeply and contentedly when Angela’s fingers begin to card through her hair.

Certainly, this is far from perfect.  It would be better if they were in a bed, if Fareeha would only _talk_ about what is bothering her—but at least this way, Angela can ensure that the rests a bit, even if it is not the night’s sleep she needs, at least this way she can see, can _feel_ that Angela is here for her, has the time, always, to help her should she need it, to hold her if she wants it, at least this way, Angela does not feel that she is completely shut out, and can cease worrying, if only for the moment, that Fareeha is suffering alone.

Still, it is not comfortable, and Angela wonders why Fareeha tolerates it.

Perhaps Fareeha thinks Angela needs this, and it is not _untrue_ , even if it is not their purpose here, even if it would be better if Fareeha would only accept help for herself, rather than being willing to sacrifice her comfort (her safety, her happiness, her _life_ ) for others.

Perhaps Fareeha knows what it is that Angela intended to do—after all, neither of them is a good liar—but if she does, she does not complain, is content to allow Angela to rub small circles on her back and run fingers through the ends of her hair as her breathing deepens and slowly, slowly, her eyelids begin to drift closed. 

Perhaps she thinks she is humoring Angela, to do this, to acquiesce so easily to what is such a thinly veiled attempt to make her sleep, but even if that were the case, she is going along with it, is going to sleep anyway, and Angela dare not complain.

(And perhaps—perhaps this is what Fareeha wanted, but could not yet bring herself to ask for.  Perhaps it need not always be overstepping, to try to help, if she can do so in small ways.  Perhaps there need not be such extremes, only _inaction_ or _overstepping_ , and they can, instead, have moments like this, when she can anticipate Fareeha’s needs and help her without doing too much, without smothering her.)

Perhaps it does not matter.  Soon enough, Fareeha stops fighting to keep her eyes from closing, and her breathing evens out in the slow, deep pattern that Angela knows signals sleep, mouth falling open as she drifts off, brows unknitting as the tension leaves her body.  Like this, she looks so calm, so untroubled, and Angela wishes she could look so always—but knows there is little more that she can do than she already has, knows that it is not within her power to fix Fareeha, nor would it be helpful for her to try.

There are no perfect solutions to problems such as theirs.

But there is this, an imperfect, inelegant answer, one that does not cure but—lessens symptoms.  One that is not a fix, but is a help.  For the first time in two weeks Fareeha is sleeping peacefully, and Angela could not ask for anything more.

Whatever comes, they will weather it together.

**Author's Note:**

> angela and fareeha both have different ways of processing/talking about emotions so i think in the beginning theyd have a lot of trouble figuring out boundaries/how best to support each other... but theyll get there. sooner or later
> 
> title is from 1d's temporary fix
> 
> now that im mostly recovered from surgery im squeezing time to write in between wc matches LMAO. hopefully quality hasnt suffered too badly for it
> 
> as always, id love it if u let me know ur thoughts <3


End file.
